Signing On
by Frankie McStein
Summary: Doyle's PoV on events leading up to his joining CI5


Disclaimer- I have pleaded, I have begged, I have wished on every star I see, but I still don't have ownership rights, or any other rights for that matter, to this show or, worse luck, to the characters involved in this show.  
However no amount of wishing on the part of the owners can stop me from playing with their toys. Legal action could, but at the moment they haven't taken any and so I therefore feel totally safe in delving in to their toy room and if I happen to lock the door behind me, well, I certainly wont be complaining.  
  
Signing On.  
  
I had been trying for some time to get out of my current job within the Met. police force with no luck when I was luckily enough to run in to an old informer of mine. He told me about a new organisation that was being started up that would be able to cut through the red tape that he knew I hate, to redefine the line between them and us. It sounded interesting and I asked him if he knew the name. CI5 came the response and I was momentarily taken aback. I had been hearing whispers of a new thunder and lightning' brigade for some months, but, never having anything more than idle gossip and hearsay to base them on, I have never given them any attention. Now however, I was determined to find out all the information I could.  
  
The first thing I found out was that the organisation was being masterminded by an ex- major, George Cowley by name apparently and that he was calling his brain child CI5. After that however, my information became very confused, and I was only able to construct a very vague picture of what CI5 was to be and the type of people they were looking for. Nevertheless, I decided to keep an ear out for any new information about this organisation that filtered down to me.  
  
Despite this growing interest in them however, I didn't have any real reason to leave my position in the Met. and so I kept my intentions concerning Major Cowley and his agency to my self. Then, one night, while we were caught in the grip of a fierce heat wave, the decision was nearly made for me. A single moment in time that will stay with me for ever and that irrevocably changed my life. A single moment, a single shot, and the most important decision of my life was nearly ripped away from me along with my partner.  
  
It was while I was dealing with the loss of Sid that I seriously thought about leaving the force, whether I had another position to go to or not. But every visit from one of my friends or a member of his family eroded my certainty of leaving slightly more, and so I stayed in the Met. I refused to have another partner, working alone was a bit boring, I never really got a chance to do any thing, not having anybody to watch my back made my a liability in the eyes of my superiors and they tended to make me hang back from the big cases. Despite this, I found that I easily had enough to keep my body busy and my mind active. The thought that something was missing, that something was going unfulfilled rarely presented itself.  
  
Then, as I suppose will always happen to people who give it an opportunity to take part in their lives, fate stepped in. I began to realise that I was noticing things happening that shouldn't be taking place. Little things at first, criminals getting off easily, but then some obvious criminals, people who would have stood no chance in a court, were getting out of the station without any bother at all. Soon, I realised that, although the majority of criminals were getting tried and sentenced as they deserved, one particular type of criminal was always getting away.  
  
People were being brought in for drug offences, big and small all the time in my neighbourhood, that wasn't unusual. What was strange, was that many of them were being released without a trial. By the time I truly noticed what was happening, most weren't even being a trial. Once I had that fact in my mind, I began to really notice what was going on. I noticed that two of my superiors were getting involved in most of the drug cases. Not all the cases though, and that allied my suspicions for a while, until I noticed the cases either of them got involved in ended in the person involved being released.  
  
In my early life I had been on the wrong side of the law often enough to know how to get away and when I joined the force I learnt how to stop people getting away. I also learnt the different ways other people got away from or out of trouble with the law. The drug cases that were being dismissed weren't using any of the usual tricks, and yet they were getting off. The only thing that connected the cases was the presence of one or other of those two officers, Preston and Montgomery. By the time I had noticed the connection, it should have been obvious to every one at that precinct what was going on. In fact it probably was. But I was the only one who deliberately noticed. I was the only one who didn't want to turn a blind eye.  
  
It took me almost two years to notice their covert activities, and another year after that to find someone else who thought, like I did, that enforcers of the law should also obey it. Morris Richards, a good friend for almost seven years. He was the one who kept me sane for the first few weeks after Sid was killed. He had picked up on what Preston and Montgomery were up to about the same time as I did, and he had been looking for someone to stand with him since he stumbled on to the connection between them and the drugs cases.  
  
The case came to trial later that same year, with the police evidence coming primarily from the Morris and myself. Once Preston and Montgomery were in jail, it only took Morris a few weeks to decide he was going to leave the force. When I asked him what he was going to do, he immediately said he was buying a pub to run. Not long after, the next week in fact, he resigned his commission and went to run his pub. I was a regular visitor there.  
  
My work load seemed to disappear after the trial. No one seemed willing to give me any job that out me in prolonged contact with any other members of the force. Then, when I did get a case to work on, I would be left hanging on, waiting for my backup. The only good thing I can remember happening to me my last year on the force was the friend I made there. He'd been brought in on suspicion of suspicious trades, like any judge wouldn't laugh that sort of sentence out of the court? I was in a foul mood when I was sent to question him and walked in with a scowl on my face that would have scared my own mother. He looked up, noticed the look, and called me sunshine. Questioning didn't last long, and he was released the next morning. I don't think I really tried too hard to make the charges stick.  
  
The last two cases I worked on, I was barely minutes away from death when the back up arrived. On both occasions there was a good reason why backup was delayed. On both occasions, I was dealing with four men on my own.   
  
Not surprising under the circumstances that I quickly drew the attention of one Major George Cowley, head of the new CI5 agency, the one that didn't use scissors to cut through the red tape. The one that was in constant need of men. The one that decided for me, once and for all, that I was leaving the force. I received a phone call from Major Cowley the day after my backup had been delayed for the second time. My first interview was the next day.   
  
I was surprised by the building when I first got there. It was tiny, totally unnoticeable at first. If I hadn't been given the address over the phone I would never have thought I was at the right place. My first impression when I walked through the door was that it must be some kind of a joke. The security guard was half asleep at his desk and I was pretty sure he didn't have a gun. The elevator didn't work of course, but by the time I had reached the third floor, my impression had drastically changed.   
  
On the first floor were rooms full of filing cabinets, with tables in all available space, loaded down with still more files. The second floor looked to be the typist pool, every room was full of tables that held two typewriters each, most with a secretary sitting at them. The third floor was where I met Major Cowley. His office was the only room I had seen that had the door fully closed and for some reason, I found that the closed door was intimidating.  
  
When I opened the door, I found Cowley more intimidating than any door could ever be. He didn't even look up as I walked in to the room. He was talking to someone on the phone and even then I knew his tone was carrying a heavy warning. I decided that very moment that I had to know how far I could push before he acted on the threat in his tone. As soon as Morris and I decided that we couldn't look away from what Preston and Montgomery were doing, I knew my career in the force was over. Before I even spoke to Cowley, I knew that I had to get a place in CI5. I knew that nothing else would do for me. It was the last thing that I had really spoken to Sid about. I hadn't caught any international jewel thieves, but I figured that corrupt cops would do just as well. The way I saw it, that was more dangerous. Apparently, Cowley thought that to.  
  
After a 20 minute long interview that was basically me answering a few questions and giving a detailed account of my last three cases after the trial and Cowley asking a few questions and pouring a few drinks, I was told that someone would be in touch within a week. As I rose to leave Cowley handed me a few files concerning CI5's last cases and he asked me to read them over. I took them and left, passing another man on his way in as I was walking out. The guard didn't seem to notice either of us.  
  
I was woken the next morning by the incessant ringing of my phone and was surprised when I heard a familiar Scottish burr on the end of the line. According to Cowley, CI5, or more specifically himself, had been watching me for a while, ever since the trial in fact. I was then informed that no further interview would be necessary. As I had trained at the police academy, I was going straight to the final tests and as soon as I had completed them, I was to be placed on the active duty list.  
  
The next day saw me handing in my resignation to my superior and packing my stuff. I would be moving the next day, no CI5 agent had their own home, at least, not while they were on active duty. The day after, I was back in Cowley's office, looking at the man I had seen two days before. He had been going for his first interview as well, and, according to Cowley, we were going to be partners.  
  
William Andrew Philip Bodie. Oh God. I know where I've seen him before. He was the man who had been brought in for suspicion of suspicious activities. The man who wasn't scared by my scowl. I'm supposed to work with him? No, I'm supposed to trust him with my life.   
  
Oh God. One of the things he told me was that he would never agree to work with a partner. Then again, he didn't say anything when Cowley gave us both the chance to object. I personally was struck dumb by total surprise but he looked perfectly cool to me. Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all.  
  
R&R? Please? I'm not doing very well on the review side of these stories. Pleeeeeeeeeeease tell me what you think? If you are still thinking after this!


End file.
